Chapter Text
Cassian is no stranger to the sound of people screaming.
The screams that tore his village apart at the end still haunt his dreams, even after all this time. The women; the other children; and the terrified noises they made as they died have jolted him from a sound sleep more times than he can count.
(To say nothing, of course, of the screams he hears now on a nearly daily basis, whenever his blaster grants him another small victory against the Empire.)
But nothing he has ever experienced could have prepared him for the sound of Jyn Erso screaming from within the relatively safe confines of her small room aboard Rebel One. Nor for the wave of icy terror that pierces his heart when he hears it.
Because she’s brave, this girl. More than brave. She’s been with them less than a month but already Cassian knows she’s more fearless, and stronger, than just about anyone he’s ever known. She risked her life without batting an eye so she run to go her father and hold him as he lay dying. She stood her ground defiantly as Krennic held a blaster to her head, refusing to back down because she knew the Alliance depended on her to transmit the Death Star plans.
If Jyn didn’t scream then, Cassian can’t begin to imagine what she’s seeing in her dreams now that’s got her so terrified.
It’s that thought that, in the end, propels him from his bunk to her bedroom door in seconds.
oOoOoOoOo
When he gets there, Jyn’s screams are even louder, less than an inch of thin wooden door all that separates her from him. The terror in her voice is unmistakable. Cassian flexes his right hand against his thigh in a moment of panicked indecision as he wages an unfamiliar internal war, telling himself that propriety doesn’t mean one goddamn thing in moments like these, while at the same time reminding himself that he has no right to enter her bedroom like this, ever.
But then he hears his name, clear as a bell amidst the rest of her shouting, and suddenly he’s flinging her door open so hard it bangs against the inside wall.
“Cassian –” she cries out again, thrashing her head from side to side on her pillow, her hands scrabbling for purchase in the empty air above her bunk. “Please, don’t let them…”
He’s at her side in two long strides. He crouches down next to her bunk and, with less than a second wasted in indecision, reaches out to gently touch her cheek.
Her skin is warm, and it’s soft. The feel of it beneath his calloused fingertips floods his whole body with a strange, unexpected warmth.
“Shhh,” he whispers, trying to soothe her without waking her up. He shakes her gently by the shoulder. “Jyn. Jyn. You’re dreaming. Everything’s fine. You’re safe, everyone is safe.”
Her eyes – small, blue-grey pools in the dim light of her bunk – slowly blink open at the sound of his voice. It takes another long moment for recognition to dawn and for her nightmare, whatever it was, to fade away.
When Jyn comes to full consciousness it’s very obvious. She blinks at him twice in rapid succession and exhales a long, shuddering sigh.
“Cassian,” she says, sounding a little confused, and more than a little surprised, as though she is only now seeing him properly for the first time. She bites her lip and trails off, closing her eyes.
“’s all right, Jyn. It was just a bad dream.” His fingers resume their gentle stroking motions along her cheekbone. Before he fully realizes what he’s doing his hand ghosts down along the side of her face, down her neck, to the collar of her thin cotton nightshirt. He hopes his voice isn’t shaking too badly. He hopes his words and the sound of his voice and his gentle touches reassure her.
With a raw desperation he neither expects nor understands he silently begs her to understand, to know, that with him, she will always be safe. Always.
“I dreamed that you fell,” she whispers. “When we were at Scarif.” She provides no further clarification. But she doesn’t need to.
He swallows hard. “Yeah. I suppose I did fall,” he says, nodding. He still has nightmares about that too. "But I'm all right now, aren't I."
She shakes her head. “No. No. I mean, yes, I know you fell. That wasn’t what was so terrible, Cassian. In my dream, you fell but -- you never got back up.” She looks at him, then, her eyes wide, terrified, and glassy with unshed tears.
Stunned by this admission -- by the fact that a dream of his death would affect her like this -- and completely uncertain what to say next, Cassian takes her into his arms and tries to give her a comforting hug. Jyn buries her face into his neck and breathes deeply, letting her tears fall silently against his shirt.
oOoOoOoOo
Later, Cassian cannot remember whose idea it had been for him to spend the rest of the night with her in her room, his body curled up around hers protectively in her narrow bed.
All he knows is that for reasons that escape him, Jyn finds his presence comforting. Less than five minutes after he’s joined her underneath her thin blanket her breathing evens out and she’s asleep.
Jyn spends the rest of the night in peaceful slumber. Cassian, however, does not.
He couldn’t sleep if he tried.
He spends the overnight hours wide awake. He is lost -- completely, utterly lost -- in a confusing tangle of thoughts and feelings as he stands watch over his sleeping compatriot and friend, the ends of her hair tickling his cheeks.